Adjustments to a New Life
by pingo1387
Summary: Canada is bitten and accidentally turned into a vampire. Some FACE family dynamics, without much FrUK.
1. The Bite

**This was inspired by Ninja-on-the-run's awesome fanfic "Bitten" :)**

**By the way, in his living room, Canada has four windows lined up on a wall.**

* * *

Canada hung his jacket on the hook by the door. After carefully placing his shoes by the door, he shuffled over to his couch and sat down, thinking that he could watch some hockey.

_I wish America weren't so annoying…_ he thought. _If he were only half as irritating as he is now, he -_  
Just then the second window shattered. Canada leapt up in surprise as a strange man jumped in. He froze as the man approached him and pinned him against the wall.

Looking in fear at the man's face, he noticed his pale blue eyes.

"That's right…" hissed the man in an inhuman voice. "Look into my eyes… and now, offer me your blood…"

Without realizing what he was doing, Canada pulled the collar of his sweater back, leaving a good portion of his neck exposed. The man leaned in and pierced Canada's neck with his canines, quickly sucking out blood. To his horror, Canada realized that he felt something _entering_ his neck as well. He soon found out that he could not move.

Five seconds later, the strange man withdrew. Sticking his finger into his mouth, he ran the saliva across the puncture marks of the still-frozen Canada's neck. The marks quickly closed themselves and the man looked at Canada again, forcing him to look at his eyes.

"Forget everything that just happened. When I leave, you'll immediately go to bed and go to sleep. You won't wake until the sun rises."

Canada's eyes grew heavy-lidded and he nodded. The man turned and jumped out the window to the left of the second one. Canada suddenly felt very tired. Without any time to wonder why he was standing against the wall, he shuffled to his bedroom and flopped on the bed, asleep before his head hit the sheets.

* * *

The vampire flitted across the street, silent as a falling feather. When he reached his home, he came to a sudden stop near the front door. He had just realized that, in his bloodlust, he may have… not only 'withdrawn', but _deposited._

_Shit,_ he thought. _I suppose I'll have to check in the morning._ _It'll have worn off by then if I'm right._

* * *

Canada blearily opened his eyes with the sun shining in his face. Squinting in the blinding light, he stretched and yawned, wondering why he was in his clothes from the day before. He had a vague memory of being incredibly tired, so he figured that he had fallen asleep before he could change out of his clothes…

As he was entering his living room, which connected to the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was that the glass from the third window from the left was shattered on the carpet, along with the glass from the window to the left of it, and a large hole in the first one. He then saw a stranger with brown hair sitting on his couch, reading a book he had left on the coffee table.

He gasped as memories came flooding back from the previous night.

The man looked up and saw the fear in Canada's eyes. Grimacing, he put the book down after dog-earing the page to mark his place. "You remember me, don't you?"

"Yes," whispered Canada. "You… took some of my blood. You're a vampire, aren't you?"

"That I am," said the man grimly. "And now you are too."

…

"What?"

"Just the fact that you remember me proves it. Do you remember that I tried to hypnotize you to forget what happened?"

Canada slowly nodded.

"That doesn't work on fellow vampires. If you were bitten and told to forget it, but you were changed as well, the memories return."

Canada couldn't believe it. Him, a creature of the night? He swayed slightly, spots of darkness flickering over his eyes. He fainted dead away.

"…okay… you… hey, are you okay?"

Canada opened his eyes slowly to see the man's pale blue ones staring concernedly back at him. He sat up quickly.

"I really am a vampire, aren't I?" he whispered.

The man nodded.

"Why… did you come here?"

"To apologize for turning you. I didn't mean to, you see, and I feel really bad about it. So I thought that as an apology, I could teach you about being a vampire, what to avoid and that."

"I see…"

"And what better way to learn," the man continued, "than to buy my book, _So You're a Vampire? It Doesn't Have to Suck! (What to and what not to do)_" He held out a bright orange book with the illustration of a person on the cover with elongated canines and shrugged shoulders. "Plus, it's a good deal – only $9.99!"

"…are… are you joking?"

The man grinned and stowed away the book. "Actually, yeah. I keep that on me for occasions such as this. Seriously, I think it would be better if I just told you about being a vampire."

Canada managed a weak chuckle. "Fire away, then…"

**You like? If you didn't recognize it (or haven't read the series) the healing saliva was ****stolen ****borrowed from ****_Cirque du Freak_****, an amazingly epic vampire series.**

**Sorry for the late update…**


	2. The Explanation

** FYI – Canada's asking about the stake / killing thing because it's my head-canon that when countries are, say, pierced through the heart (or exposed to something that would probably kill a human), they go into a coma for a while, depending on the injury. So he wants to be prepared and avoid it, if possible.**

* * *

"Okay," said the man, shifting his position on the couch to get more comfortable. "What do you want to know?"

"Um…" said Canada, sitting in a chair, "Well… will a stake through the heart kill me?"

"Well, of course. But so will a bullet. Or electricity. We can still die; we're just harder to kill. Speaking of which—" he grinned. "We're not immortal, but we live for a really long time, often hundreds of years. Cool, eh?"

"Yes…" Canada decided not to mention the fact that he'd already been alive for more than two centuries.

"Um… what about garlic?"

"Doesn't kill, but causes a pretty bad allergic reaction. Depends on the person – could be hives, runny nose, etc."

"Aversion to sunlight?"

"Try not to stay out for more than three or four hours. You'll get a really nasty sunburn, which could make you collapse, and sunscreen doesn't work."

"Reflections?"

"Of course we have a reflection. Why wouldn't we?"

"Okay… now, um… what about… feeding?" This was what Canada had been most nervous to ask about.

"Well, for one thing, you can't live off of animal blood. Three weeks without human blood, give or take a few days, and you're dead. You'll have to feed at least once a day, maybe once every other day. Everyone's blood tastes different – usually depends on what kind of person they are, or what they've recently eaten. Oh! You'll have to be sure not to take too much from the person – any more than a liter of blood, and they'll have to be hospitalized. So if you don't feed for a long time, next time you do, you could take too much and kill / hospitalize the person or accidentally change them, like I did."

"Oh… how can I avoid changing other people?"

"Simple. Just don't inject saliva. If too much gets into their bloodstream, it will change them. Speaking of saliva, your saliva has healing properties – it can close minor cuts. Also, when you're ready to feed, your canines extend for easier feeding, and retract when you're finished."

"What about that thing you did… with the eyes?"

"That's basically hypnosis. Get the person to look at your eyes, then you can tell them something like 'offer me your blood' and they'll expose their neck. When under the spell, they'll know what's going on, but they won't be able to move. Then, when you're finished, you can tell the person to forget that you fed and make them go somewhere close or think that they did something else. But you can only tell them to do something up to a few minutes afterward – like, you can't tell them to rob a bank, that would take too long. Plus, if you drink from someone more than once every other day, there's a good chance they'll remember you drinking from them."

"Okay, now what—"

"Oh! If you want the person to remember you feeding (for some reason), just touch their forehead and tell them to remember. Also, if you happen to kill someone, don't worry – you won't leave fingerprints. Our hands are special," he said, grinning. "Now, what were you saying?"

"What about human food? Can I not eat that anymore?"

"You can eat human food, but since your stomach will be special, it literally evaporates when it hits the lining. Eating human food is just for the taste. So you could load up on Tw*nkies and never get sick – not that we get sick anyway."

"Did you say… my stomach _will_ be special?"

"The change happens over 24 hours, so yes. You'll still have to eat human food for today. Now for some of the cooler things – you really don't need much sleep, only one or two hours, and…" he leaned forward. "You'll be able to shape-shift. But just into a blackbird by day and a bat by night. You can only feed when you're in human form, though. And you'll be able to move about two times faster than you normally do.

"So," the man said, leaning back on the couch. "In conclusion, being a vampire is not that bad. And if you're wondering why I hadn't fed in a while, I just got lost. These woods are huge. Yours was the first house I came upon, being out in the woods, and oddly enough, my house was in the neighborhood just beyond these woods – about fifty yards out that way."

"Thank you for telling me this."

"No problem! See you around, maybe?" The man grinned and exited the room, jumping out the last unbroken window.

* * *

**And so, Canada is left with all four windows broken XD**

**The vampire stuff is a combination of things from:**

**Eerie Cuties**

**Cirque Du Freak**

**Vampire Cheerleaders**

**My head**


	3. The Taste

That night, at about four in the morning, Canada felt a growing thirst in his throat. He had already tried drinking water to no effect. He soon (reluctantly) accepted the fact that he would have to drink blood.

_Maybe I could practice drinking from an animal, like a cow or a horse,_ he thought to himself. _Even if Mr. Kumacheerio doesn't remember my name, he'll most certainly remember me drinking from him. Cows, on the other hand…_

Canada started to pull on a coat, thinking that he could take a walk and search for a farm, but stopped as he realized something. This would be the perfect opportunity to test out his shape-shifting abilities and fly to the nearest farm.

He stepped outside and pulled his coat tighter around himself. It was September, and the weather was gradually growing chillier. He stood on the ground outside and focused. He thought of himself being a bat, having leathery wings, pointy ears, and a small upturned nose. As he did so, he felt himself shrinking and his arms extending. To his amazement, he also realized that his clothes seemed to be disappearing into his skin.

When the transformation was complete, Canada stood at one foot tall and two feet wide. His eyesight was very dim – he could only make out blurred, dark shapes with some glowing from lights.

Preparing himself, he sprang from the ground and flapped his wings madly. He rose into the air, hovering for a moment before gliding over his house and out of the woods.

Flying felt amazing. The wind brushing past his fur, the feeling of weightlessness… it was wonderful. After about two minutes, he sensed the warmth of several animals close together – most likely a farm. He silently coasted down to the source, landing on stiff grass and changing back to his human form (he thanked heavens that his clothes reappeared on him). He looked around and saw some cows sleeping in the pasture. He silently strode toward them. Approaching the one closest to him, he opened his mouth and leaned toward its neck. His canines elongated just enough to puncture the thick skin of the cow. He leaned toward the marks, hesitated, pulled back slightly, and determinedly leaned forward again. His mouth closed around the wound and began to suck.

The blood tasted… magnificent. It was delicious, and it was quenching his thirst. Magnificent… but lacking something. Canada noticed that he could sense how much blood he'd taken and wished that he had looked up how much blood cows have before he came here.

When Canada pulled away from the wound, feeling relieved that he hadn't accidentally killed the creature; he started to leave when he remembered the saliva. Sticking his finger in his mouth, he moved it over the cut to close it up.

* * *

Canada flew to his doorstep and changed back into a human. He opened the door and went up to his bedroom. Pulling on pajamas, he slept until about seven in the morning.

Opening his eyes, he winced at the light pouring in from his bedroom window. Glancing at the clock, he remembered with a sudden jolt that he was hosting a world meeting in Ottawa, and he had only one hour to get there.

Pulling his clothes on as fast as possible, he grabbed his papers, hoping that they were the correct ones, and ran out the front door. He hopped his car and peeled out of the garage.

Half an hour later, Canada was at the meeting place in record time (somehow without breaking the speed limit). He looked at his watch and sighed in relief. It was then that he noticed the great thirst he had. The cow blood that he had drunk the previous night was lovely, but hardly fulfilling. He would have to drink human blood.

_I'll drink some from someone after the meeting… no, I have plenty of time… perhaps I should start with Al. He won't be very suspicious about going off alone with me._

Entering the hotel the meeting was to be held in, he saw America right away, fiddling with a smartphone.

"Ha! Take that, stupid green pigs!"

"Al," said Canada, coming over to where America was sitting, "are you playing Angry Birds again?"

"Hey, Mattie. Yeah, these damn pigs just don't know when to quit."

"Neither do you…" Canada mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Listen, Al… can I show you something? It'll only take a minute."

America finally looked up, but in annoyance. "But _Mattie_…" he whined. "I can't pause the game here!"

"Al, I've played that game before. I know you can pause it at pretty much any time."

"Damn it, okay. Just a sec." He fired one more bird from the slingshot before pausing the game. He tucked the phone away in his pocket and stood up, stretching his arms.

Canada beckoned and walked towards the nearest broom closet, where he was sure no one would disturb them. He closed the door behind America and pulled the cord to the light switch.

"Dude, why is it in a broom closet? This feels awkward."

"Well…"

"Hey, something wrong, Mattie?"

Canada hesitated, then steeled himself and said, "Um… actually, could you just take a look at my eyes?"

"Huh?" America leaned forward, peering into Canada's eyes. "Why—"

He froze, still looking at the violet irises. Canada was a little surprised that America was being quiet, but he remembered what he had to do. "America… o-offer me your blood."

He was surprised that it worked: America pulled back the collar of his suit and obediently held still. Canada leaned in, his canines elongated, and gently pierced his soft, slightly tanned skin. He sucked on the wound.

The blood was much more fulfilling than the animal blood he had drunk before. The flavor… it seemed slightly greasy, annoyingly so.

_He must have had a hamburger or two before coming here,_ thought Canada.

After drinking a little less than half a liter of blood, he withdrew his mouth and used the saliva to close the cut. There was not even a small mark from the bite left. He tilted America's head to make him look at his eyes again.

"Alfred, when I say okay, leave this closet and go straight to the couch you were sitting at without talking to anybody. When you sit down, you'll forget that I drank your blood. You'll think that I came in and immediately went to use the restroom, and that you just paused your game to take a break. Understand?"

America's eyes grew heavy-lidded, as Canada's own had done just two nights ago, and nodded.

"Okay."

America turned, opened the door, and walked back to the lobby. Canada watched him go, and then gave a nervous laugh. He did it. He drank a person's blood.

* * *

_Holy crap, I can't believe it…_ thought America as his body unwillingly strode toward the lobby. _My brother's a freakin' vampire! I have to warn people! I have to help him! I have to – um, what was I just thinking about?_ He had just reached the couch and sat down.

_Oh well, break's over. Time to go back to killing pigs._ He pulled out his smartphone.


	4. The Sun

**Sorry about before - I fixed the thing with the text issue :)**

* * *

The meeting was finally over. Canada had only made the introduction, and the second he sat down, America started talking at warp speed 9. He hadn't been able to talk after that, but he was grateful, for it gave him time to think about what he had recently done.

_I drank someone's blood… a _human's_ blood… does this make me a monster? No, I'm only doing it to survive… it's not like I'm hurting anyone, right?_

He exited the lobby with a sigh, only to hastily step back inside. The clouds from the morning had been burned away by the sun, and only a few remained in the clear blue sky. He hesitated, wondering what to do. There was no other option – he would have to run for it. Bracing himself, he—

"Hey, Mattie!" America's sudden exclamation from directly behind him nearly caused Canada to fall over.

"What're you doing, man?" America laughed, standing next to him. Canada opened his mouth, but America pressed on: "Hey, you wanna come to McD's with me? Grab some lunch?"

Canada was about to refuse when he remembered that all the grease and fat would have no effect on him now. "Sure, Al, I'll come. Where are you parked?"

America looked slightly startled that Canada had agreed, but he quickly recovered and told him.

Canada grinned. "Do you want to race there?"

America grinned too. "What's gotten into you today, Mattie? You know I'm gonna win!"

"Then why not race?"

"Yeah, let's do it! On your mark…" the two prepared themselves. "Get set… go!"

They took off, and Canada overtook America in no time with his newfound speed. The wind rushed past his face and made his eyes slightly watery. In less than a minute he had reached the car.

_That was almost as fun as flying._

A minute later, America reached the car as well, gasping for breath. "Mattie… what the hell!?"

Canada shrugged and said with a smile, "I've been working out."

America clapped him on the back. "It shows! Good job, man!"

Canada's skin felt very hot. He was extremely uncomfortable in the sun. "Al, I'm going to go to my car. I'll meet you at the restaurant, alright?"

"Sure, okay." America gave him the address of the nearest one. Canada took off as fast as he could to his car to avoid spending much longer in the sun. He yanked the door open and collapsed on the seat.

_I really shouldn't go in the sun._

When Canada climbed out of his car at the fast food place, he saw America waving from the window. Walking under the shade of the awning, he met America at the booth he had chosen.

"Hi, Mattie! You might be faster on foot, but I got here first!" he said obnoxiously.

"Al, you were parked closer to the exit gate. Of course you got here first."

"Anyway, I ordered a cheeseburger and fries for you." He gestured toward the small package and container of fries on the table, along with a lemon-lime soda.

"Thanks, Al." He sat down and took a bite of the burger. It tasted… well, the meat was okay, but it was saturated in grease. The fries were rather stiff, too. The soda was the only thing that didn't taste like it had been soaked in fat.

He swallowed his second bite and smiled. "It's good!" he lied.

"What'd you expect?"

* * *

**Me: I am so sorry for short chapter I ran out of ideas ;_;**

**Readers: *shoots off authoress' ears***


	5. The Brit

Canada woke up slowly to faint sunlight filtering through the blinds. He rolled himself out of bed, pulled on a bathrobe, and shuffled to the kitchen to make pancakes. Today was his day off, and he planned to make the most of it. Along the way he passed the windows – he had called a handyman the other day, and he was supposed to come today, but in the meantime they were covered by large sheets of paper.

_I still don't see why he had to break _all_ of those windows._

Canada finished off the pancakes he made. They tasted delicious, but it just wasn't the same as before, when they filled him up and he wasn't still hungry or thirsty. He sighed and cleared away the dishes.

The doorbell rang. Canada, alarmed, yelled "Pardon me, just a minute!" he ran to his room and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. He ran downstairs and yanked the door open to the startled face of the handyman.

"Oh… hello. Please come in… it's right up here." He led the man to the windows. The handyman took a look and sighed.

"This is gonna cost ya."

"I know, I'm sorry… how much?"

"Won't know 'till the job's done, kid. Prob'ly take a few hours."

"Thank you," Canada said quietly, but the man didn't appear to hear him. Canada pulled on his jacket and stepped outside. The day was sunny, but with a certain chill in the air, reminiscent of autumn. He walked for a bit before thinking of something.

_I could try being a blackbird, now that it's daytime. I wonder if it's any different from being a bat._

He checked to make sure that the handyman wasn't watching from the windows. Affirming that he was not, Canada took a deep breath and transformed. His arms shrunk into smooth wings, his body into a petite black shape, and his legs into skinny little things. The sensation was different than that of being a bat – he was smaller, for one, and had no external ears.

Lifting off, he found out that the sensation of _flying_ was not that different from a bat's. He flew for about a mile into the nearest town. Swooping down, he flew lower than most wood-born blackbirds flew – among cars and people, causing a few to honk their horns or jump back in fright.

He had barely gone a block when he stopped in mid-air, almost falling to the street. Turning around and flying back, he saw England sitting in a corner café, sipping tea and reading a newspaper. How very British of him.

_I _did_ tell myself that I would start off by drinking from people close to me, to get used to it. Since England's already here…_

Swooping to an alley behind the café, he landed and took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching. The alleyway was deserted, save for a cat digging through a dumpster. He changed back to a human. The cat hissed and darted away. He watched it leave with a small smile, and strolled as casually as possible out to the street. No one noticed him.

_Well, at least that comes in handy now._

He strolled into the café. England looked up, looked back at his newspaper, and then looked up again. "Can—I mean, Matthew?"

Canada put on an expression of _faux_ surprise. "Arthur! Hello! May I ask what you're doing here?"

"Well, I thought I'd stay here for a bit, since I came for the meeting. Here, lad, come sit with me." Canada accepted the offer, sitting at the booth across from him.

"So how have you been? I'm sorry you didn't get to speak at the meeting yesterday."

"That's all right…"

"Actually," said England, looking embarrassed, "I have to use the loo. Do you mind?"

_Perfect._

"Not at all. I actually have to go, too…"

"But who will guard the table?"

"Wait a minute, I'll leave a note." Canada took a napkin and wrote 'Using restroom – please do not clear the table'. The two stood up and made for the men's room.

When England finished using the toilet, he was washing his hands when he saw Canada standing against the wall behind him. "Canada? I thought you had to use the toilet as well?"

"Well," said Canada, thinking fast, "actually, I – oh, England, I think you have something in your eye… come over here, please, and let me take a closer look." He thanked his lucky stars that the bathroom was deserted and there was a single female customer besides them.

England attempted to examine his eye in the mirror. "I don't see anything."

"Maybe I was mistaken… may I take a look?"

The Brit strode to the Canadian. "All right, but please make it quick."

"Don't worry, I will." With an adjustment of his head (and England's, by tilting his chin slightly), Canada got him to look in his eyes.

"Canada, what are… you…"

"England, offer me your blood." England pulled back his turtleneck sweater to expose his neck. Canada moved in and drank. There was a definite taste difference with England and America's blood. The self-proclaimed gentleman's blood tasted of… well, if he had to put a name on it, it would be 'magic.' There were some faint traces of herbs, and rosehips as well.

After he finished, he closed the wounds and looked into England's eyes again. "England, when I say okay, you're going to leave the restroom and go straight to our table. You'll sit down where you were before. When I come and sit down, you'll immediately forget that I drank your blood and thought that you had something in your eye. You'll think that we both just came back from the restroom. Understand?"

England nodded.

"Okay." England promptly turned, pulled the door open, and walked out of the restroom. Canada waited a moment, and then followed him. He found him sitting at their table, staring straight ahead, apparently not seeing anything. Canada sat down where he was before. England blinked, and then looked at the napkin.

"We should probably throw this away," he said, getting up and tossing it in a trashcan.

Sitting down again, he realized that Canada wasn't there. Looking up, he saw him coming back from the counter with a cup of maple tea. He shook his head and smiled. "Maple tea? What are you going to add maple flavor to next?"

"Actually," replied Canada with a straight face, "our top scientists have been developing how to make lemons taste like maple. They're very close."

England looked shocked for a moment, but his face cleared up and he laughed along with Canada.


	6. The Suggestion

"Hey, isn't that…" said Canada, looking out the window. England looked out as well and groaned.

"Yes, it is." France and America were walking on the street next to the café. Canada tapped on the glass. They looked up and smiled, then hurried into the café. France slid in next to England, who glowered and turned away, and America plopped down next to Canada, who smiled.

"Hey, Mattie, Artie! What're you doin' here?"

England winced slightly at America's poor speech patterns and said stiffly, "I was having a cup of tea and a newspaper when I ran into Matthew."

France tossed his lovely silky blond hair over his shoulder. "Alfred and I bumped into each other on the street. It was quite startling; I nearly messed up my hair."

"Dude, I said sorry."

"And I said that you should be watching where you are going," retorted France.

"Oh, by the way, Alfred," said England, frowning at him, "have you stolen anything of mine recently?"

"What?" Exclaimed America with a hurt expression. "Artie, why would I steal something of yours?"

"To play a prank on me and see how long it takes me to notice."

"I would never do that!"

"Actually, Al, I think you would," interjected Canada.

"Mattie!"

"So did you or didn't you?" England said impatiently.

"No, I didn't! Why?"

"I just… have this nagging feeling that I've forgotten something important. But for the life of me, I cannot think of what it is." Canada stiffened.

"Oh? When did you have this feeling?"

"…ever since I came back from the bathroom with Matthew."

"You sure you didn't drop your phone or wallet in the toilet or something?"

"Yes, I've checked my pockets. My phone and wallet are still in place."

"Y'know," said America slowly, "come to think of it, I had the same feeling yesterday. I don't have it anymore, though, so maybe it was… a red fish?"

"The term is red herring."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Red herring."

"You said red fish."

"Nu-uh."

"Yes, you did."

"No, _you_ did!"

"…forget it."

"Yeah, that's right, old man, I win!"

While America and England continued to bicker, Canada was fretting over the feeling. Was his memory-wipe incomplete? Had he missed something? Maybe he should be more specific next time…

France saw his concerned expression. "_Mathieu_, what is the matter?" England and America heard this and turned curiously. Canada looked up, alarmed.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all… I was just thinking about something government-related. Don't worry, it's nothing."

"…okay." England picked up his newspaper and read from where he left off, leaving America to turn to Canada and start chatting animatedly about sports. France got up and soon came back with a _café au lait_. He sipped at it and closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the taste.

"Oh, this reminds me!" he exclaimed suddenly, setting down his cup. "Why don't we all take a trip into Québec tomorrow? It's supposed to be sunny and warm, and we would all get to spend more time with _Mathieu_!"

America thought for a moment, then grinned and said, "Sounds like fun!"

England set down his newspaper and sighed. "I suppose if it's less than a week, I could tolerate the French air around me."

Canada thought fast. "Um…" _I could just invent ways to stay out of the sun as much as possible._ "_Oui_, that sounds good."

"_Bonne_! We can head there tomorrow, then?"

"_Oui_."

"Sure!"

"I suppose so."


	7. The Door

"Ah…" France sighed. "I haven't been here in ages…"

"I've _never_ been here, so you've got one up on me," said America, looking around curiously.

"There're too many French people," England grumped.

Canada just looked at his family and smiled. The four had arranged to stay at a hotel for six days (upon which France insisted, pointing out to England that it was indeed less than a week), with America and Canada staying in one room and England and France in a room next to them.

"Oh! _Mathieu…_" said France, turning to Canada, "have you arranged for someone to take care of Mr. Kumajirou?"

"_Oui, papa_," he said, smiling, thinking of the arrangements.

* * *

**At Canada's house**

"Geez, I can't believe I got sucked into this," grumbled the blue-eyed man. "He said that he had an 'unusual pet'… is it a big dog or something?"

Using the key that was given to him, he unlocked the door and stepped into the house. "Mister… um… Kumajirou!" he called, setting the key on a table by the door.

A small white bear came around the corner. "Who are you?"

"AUGH! A TALKING POLAR BEAR!?"

* * *

**Back to the story**

The family walked for a while on the shaded sidewalk, of which Canada was only temporarily relieved, for France soon suggested that they move to the other side of the street for lunch. The other side of the street, as France noted, was much sunnier and warmer.

America and England agreed, and Canada as well, albeit reluctantly. He told them to go to the café – he would catch up with them in a second. When his family curiously agreed, Canada waited a moment to let them cross and enter. Then he took a deep breath, ran as fast as he could across the street…

…and promptly slammed into the door of the café, eliciting laughter from some of the people around him, and three cries of alarm from within the café. France, England, and America came running out to check on him and help him up.

"_Mathieu_, are you hurt? _Mon Dieu_, is that blood on your face?"

"Geez, Mattie, what the hell were you doing?"

"Careful now, lad, up you go…"

The three helped him up and brought him to sit down at their table, where France fussed over him some more until Canada pushed him away. "_Papa_, I'm fine."

England frowned at him. "What on earth made you decide to do that? I'd expect something like that from Alfred, but not you."

"Hey!"

"I didn't decide to… I was running across the street, I went too fast, and I ran into the door. That's all."

"And speaking of which," said France, "how in the world did you go so fast, _Mathieu_? You nearly made _mon cœur _stop!"

"Oh… I've been working out more lately."

America nodded. "Yeah, you beat me in that race the other day."

England seemed very impressed.

"I was right!" France exclaimed suddenly, peering at Canada's face. "There's blood on your face!"

Canada touched his lip and brought the finger away to reveal slight redness. "I'll go wash it off…"

"I will come with you," France said. "I will make sure that you do not run into any more doors." He and Canada got up and headed to the men's room. America watched them go, then giggled.

"Artie, you gotta admit, it was pretty funny seeing Mattie slam into the door like that."

"That was not funny at all. Your brother could have been seriously hurt."

"But did you see his expression?..."

* * *

Canada checked his reflection in the mirror. There was only a little blood on his upper lip, which he washed off quickly. France was leaning on the wall, watching him concernedly. The sight of the red liquid had reminded Canada of the fact that he had yet to feed today. Beckoning France over, he said, "_Papa_, I think there's something in my eye. Could you take a look, _s'il vous plait_?"

France complied, checking Canada's eyes, and was captivated by the violet irises. Canada went through the motions, and had soon latched onto France's neck and drank. The self-proclaimed 'ladies' man' had blood that reminded him of fine wine, with a very sweet and rich aftertaste. He sealed the cut and looked at France's eyes.

"France, when I tell you okay, you'll lean against the wall where you were before and you'll think that I just finished washing my face. When you lean again, you'll have no memory at all of anything from when I said that there was something in my eye to when you go up against the wall… okay."

France did as instructed, and then stood up straight. "All done, _Mathieu_?"

"_Oui, papa_."

"_Bon_." They left to find America and England waiting for them; America, stacking jam and cream containers in small pyramids, and England, silently willing the stacks to tip over.

* * *

It was the end of the day, and everyone was tired (everyone except Canada, that is, but he yawned along with the rest). They retired to the hotel, where England and France departed to their room (with separate beds, of course), and America and Canada went to theirs. America changed into his P.J.'s and looked at Canada. "Aren't you going to change, dude?"

"I think I'm going to stay up a little bit longer, Al."

"Oh, okay then. How long?"

"Maybe an hour or so."

"Cool," said America, getting an idea. "But in the meantime, shouldn't you brush your teeth?"

"I was just about to, Al…" Canada said, grabbing his toothbrush and heading to the bathroom. America jumped out of bed and grabbed his video camera.

_I can record Mattie staying up late. Won't he be surprised when I can tell him exactly how long he stayed up for and what he did! Thank God this thing has three hours on it._

He cast about the room, looking for a suitable spot. The only place that could view the whole room and see the clock was out on the deck. He put the camera there in such a way so that it was invisible unless you were looking for it and turned it on. He noticed that it also recorded the deck, which was perfect, in case Canada happened to go there. He jumped back into bed just as Canada came into the room. Grinning at his brother, he said, "'night, Mattie!" America turned onto his side and promptly fell asleep.

Canada watched America, already sleeping deeply. _How in the world does he do that?_ Shaking his head wonderingly, he strode quietly to the deck. Preparing himself and making sure that no one was watching from below or another deck, he transformed into a bat and took off into the night…


	8. The Suspicion

America woke up, yawned, and stretched. He glanced over to see Canada already awake and reading a book on the couch. Without looking up, Canada said, "Morning, Al. Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah…" America suddenly remembered the camera. Luckily, Canada stood up and said that he was going to ask about breakfast at the front desk. As soon as he left, America jumped out of bed and ran to the deck to check the camera. It had stopped recording and turned itself off in the night. Turning it back on, he flicked over to the recorded videos and pressed PLAY.

He saw himself running back to the bed as Canada came in. His video self smiled and said, "'night, Mattie!" and fell asleep. He saw Canada watch him for a moment, then shake his head. America was about to fast forward when he saw Canada going to the deck. Watching carefully, he saw Canada seeming to ready himself to do something.

_What the hell is he doing?_

And in the next few seconds America was sitting hard on the floor. Blinking in shock, his mouth gaping like that of a fish, he stayed that way for a moment until he had collected himself. He picked the camera up and shakily pressed REWIND.

Just as he thought he saw before, his brother's body began to shrink. It sprouted short, dark brown hair all over. The ears moved up the head and became pointy, while the nose was upturned like a pig's snout. Canada shrank – and his clothes shrank into _him_, America noted – until he was approximately seven times smaller than before. Leathery wings spread and the bat lifted off the ground, flying into the night. America stared for what must have been five minutes. Then when nothing happened, he fast-forwarded until he saw something. Rewinding a few seconds, he saw the bat land on the deck and turn back into the brother he knew and loved.

Unfortunately for Alfred, the video stopped recording there. But this occurrence could also have been considered fortunate, for at that precise moment footsteps were heard approaching the room. America turned off the camera and stashed it away just as Canada opened the door, carrying a large tray with breakfast on it - a reasonable amount of pancakes and syrup for Matthew, and an ample amount of bacon, waffles, and eggs for Alfred. He smiled at his brother gratefully and the two sat down to eat, America's mind working furiously the whole time.

_Okay, so I just saw my brother turn into a bat and fly. It wasn't an illusion, there were no tricks… does this mean that… he's a vampire? Vampires are the ones that turn into bats, right? But he's eating regular food right now…_ He looked up as he thought this, and sure enough, Canada was taking neat bites of his pancake. _Maybe he just eats it for the taste? But surely someone would remember if he drank their blood? I know _I _would… oh, but it would make sense if vampires had some way of wiping peoples' memories. Otherwise vampire hunters would be all over them… wait! Didn't Iggy say he went into the bathroom with Mattie the other day? And then France and Mattie went into the bathroom together to clean up his face? Could he have drank from them? Hey, that would also explain why Iggy had a feeling that he forgot something! But… I had that same feeling!… did Mattie drink from _me_?_

"Al, are you alright?"

America's head snapped up to see Canada staring at him in a concerned manner. He realized that his pancakes were gone already.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine Mattie!" he exclaimed quickly. Taking large bites, he demolished his breakfast in three minutes. Canada then took the tray downstairs, leaving America to his thoughts.

_If he really is a vampire, I should try keeping him from getting alone with anyone, and I'll see if he looks hungry or something at the end of the day._

* * *

Canada held up a blue hoodie, admiring it. "I think I'm going to try this on…"

England came up to him with a green turtleneck sweater. "Do you mind if I come with you, Matthew?"

"Not at all…" Canada and the Brit started to head to the dressing room when America suddenly ran up to them, having randomly grabbed a shirt off of the rack.

"Hey, can I join you guys?"

"Do we have any choice?" scoffed England. And so the three of them went into a room, with Canada seeming slightly annoyed at America…

* * *

"Ah…" Canada stretched after lunch. "I have to use the restroom. Al, do you have to go as well?"

"No…"

"_Papa_?"

"_Oui_, I'll come," said France, getting up.

"On second thought, I have to go too," said America quickly, standing up so fast he knocked his drink all over England's front. Canada eyed him curiously…

* * *

America stretched after dinner in a very satisfied way. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"Oh," said Canada, moving his chair back, "I'll come with you…"

"England! You wanna come with us?" said America quickly. England looked up, thought for a moment, and nodded. The three of them headed to the restroom…

* * *

"All right, Alfred," said England sharply when they were at the hotel. He had called America alone, leaving France and Canada waiting by the elevator, at America's insistence. "What's going on?"

"Um… huh?"

"You've been acting strangely all day. I'd like you to tell me what you're up to."

"Uh…"

"_Alfred_…"

"Well… this is going to sound weird, but… I think Mattie's a vampire."

"…pardon?"

"I think Mattie's a vampire!"

"And why on Earth, may I ask, would you even consider something so preposterous?"

"Well, first off, did you see how fast he moved the other day? And he beat _me_ in a race! If he was a vampire, he'd probably be faster, right?"

"That's not necessarily true."

"Okay, but here's the thing: Last night, long story short, I set up a camera, and it recorded him _changing into a bat_. Try and tell me that's not proof!"

"...a bat."

"Yeah! It was kinda creepy!"

England sighed. "If you're telling the truth, Alfred… don't you think he'd have to take blood from humans in order to survive, perhaps once a day?"

"Okay, but it makes sense that he'd have some memory-wiping technique, right? And think about this: You said that a couple days ago, you and Mattie were at the café, and you and him went into the bathroom together _alone_! He could have drank your blood and made you forget! Plus, you said you thought you forgot something, right? It could have been a side-effect, but it was gone by the next day! _And_, he and Francis went into the bathroom alone just yesterday, right?"

"I have to admit, I'm impressed. I didn't think that you'd be able to form a good conclusion based on good evidence."

"Well, yeah, I'm a hero."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"Being a hero has something to do with everything! Anyway, Iggy—"

"Don't call me that."

"…anyway, Artie, I'm going to try and get Mattie to confess tonight. I'll be careful, so  
don't worry!"

"I wasn't worried."

"Sweet, you have that much faith in me?"

"No. I just wasn't very concerned about your well-being. Of course I have faith in you, Alfred!"

"Wait, so which is it?"

"Are you two almost done?" called Canada from the elevators.

"Yeah, coming, Mattie!"

England and America glanced at each other and quickly headed to the elevators.


	9. The Erasing

America settled into his bed while Canada quietly sat on the couch, reading a book. America looked at it curiously. "Hey, Mattie, what's that book you're reading?"

"It's called _I Am A Cat_. It's a Japanese book by Sōseki Natsume, a Japanese author."

"You can read Japanese?"

"…it's the English translation, Al. And no, I can recognize a few words, but I can't really read it."

"What's it about?"

"A cat without a name that spends most of his time observing the habits and foibles of the humans that surround him…"

"Sounds boring."

"Anyway, are you going to sleep now, Al?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Okay. I'm going to stay up for a bit longer."

"And how long are you going to stay up?"

"Oh, perhaps the same as last night…"

"So, you're going to turn into a bat again?" blurted out America.

There was a pause in which Canada tensed slightly, and then relaxed.

"Sorry, what?"

"You know what I mean. You turned into a bat last night!"

"Al, if that's a joke, and I think it's supposed to be, you could use some lessons."

"You're a vampire, aren't you!?"

"Al, now you're getting ridiculous…"

"No, I'm not. I have proof! I saw you turn into a bat last night!"

Canada contemplated the book for a moment before sighing and setting it down. "And what if I told you that you were right?"

"Um… didn't actually think that far ahead…"

"I see. Well, Alfred, you're right. And now, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to make you forget that you know." He came over to the bed and softly instructed, "Look into my eyes."

America quickly shut his eyes. "So that's how you make people forget!" he jumped out of bed and started groping around for the door with his eyes shut, bumping into several things. Canada watched him for a moment before coming up behind him and pinning him to the wall.

"Augh! Mattie, you bastard! Well, you can't make me look! I'll just keep my eyes closed!"

"Oh, you'll open them," said Canada quietly. "You'll have to breathe sometime."

"No I – ! Wait," he said, opening his eyes confusedly, "what do my eyes have to do with breathing?"

Unfortunately for him, he was immediately captured by Canada's violet irises.

"Offer me your blood…"

America exposed his neck to Canada, who drank… but only about half of what he needed. He closed the cut and made America look at his eyes again. _Time for some interrogation._

"Al, why did you start thinking that I was a vampire?"

There was a pause, and America spoke in a monotone: "…I… recorded you… turning into a bat…"

"Did you tell anybody else?"

"…England…"

Canada thought for a moment. If he knew England and France (and he was fairly certain that he did), France would be asleep (for his 'beauty sleep') and England would be reading a book.

"Okay. Now, listen, Al…" he brought America's face slightly closer to his to maximize the effect of his eyes. "Go into Arthur and _papa's_ room and bring England here as quickly and as quietly as possible. When you come back with England, go to bed and immediately fall asleep so that you forget everything that has to do with me being a vampire. You won't be able to hear anyone when you're sleeping. Understand?... go."

America immediately went to the door, heading to the room next to theirs. Canada quickly strode across the room and found the camera, deleting the film of himself shape-shifting.

* * *

England sat up in bed, his light on, reading a book. Earlier, he had told France that America thought that Canada was a vampire. France simply laughed, and after stating that his _petit chou_ was not a vampire ("_C'est impossible_!") he rolled over and went to sleep.

There was a quiet, yet urgent knock on the door. England bookmarked his place and got up to answer it, still in his boxers. He was surprised to find America standing there, an odd look on his face.

"England," he whispered, "come quick!"

"America? What's wrong?"

"Just hurry! It's about Canada!"

England sensed that something was off, but nonetheless, he followed America to his and Canada's room. Just as America opened the door, it clicked: America had called Canada by his country name. He _never_ did that; it was always 'Mattie' this and 'Mattie' that.

"America, what are—" but America had already led England inside, gone to his bed, and started snoring. England saw Canada standing silently against the wall. He quickly put things together when Canada started walking towards him. "Matthew, what did you do?"

"Sorry, Arthur, but since you know too, I'm going to have to wipe your memory as well. Please make this easy and look at my eyes."

"Alfred!" cried England, addressing the snoring lump in the bedcovers. "Alfred, help me!"

"He can't hear you right now."

"You can't make me look, Matthew! Not if I keep my eyes closed!"

Canada thought fast. Getting a flash of inspiration, he suddenly released England's shoulders, crying "_Papa_! What are you doing here?" then, in an imitation of France's voice (which was stunningly accurate) he said, "_Angleterre_, are you all right?"

England opened his eyes gratefully. "France, I don't think I've ever been happier to—"

Like America, poor England was captured by Canada's eyes and made to give his blood. Canada instructed him to go back to bed, and when he did so, immediately forget everything that America told him about Canada being a vampire. And England was on his way.

* * *

**OH SNAP CANADA YOU MISSED SOMEONE! **


	10. The Garlic

France opened his eyes, sat up, and stretched. The sun was coming in through the window, illuminating England reading a book in a chair. He glanced up at France's movement, muttered, "Morning," and looked back down.

France swung his hairy legs around the side of the bed and stood up. "_Bonjour, angleterre~_. Let us hope that there aren't any _vampires_ around, hm?" He gave England a teasing wink.

England looked up again, only to quickly turn away with a blush creeping up his cheeks. "First off, frog, don't sleep naked. You're as bad as Italy. Second—"

"Ah, and how is it you know Italy sleeps naked~?"

"I happened to overhear Germany scolding Italy about climbing into his bed nude every night; but that's not the point. As I was saying, second: what was that about vampires?"

"Eh, you know, what you were saying last night…"

"What I was saying?" asked England with a frown.

"About _Mathieu_ being a vampire…" prompted France.

England put down his book at this point, although he still kept his face turned away from France. "Look, are you dressed? Or do you at least have some boxers on?"

"_Oui_."

England cautiously looked out of the corner of his eye. Satisfied, he turned to face France full on. "Frog, I don't know what you're talking about. Who's Matthew?"

"America's brother? The quiet one? Honestly, _angleterre_, I don't know how you continue to forget…"

"Ah yes, Matthew. Canada. I remember now. Anyway, I didn't say anything about vampires or Matthew. That's nonsense. The only things I said to you last night were…" he thought back. "Actually, I think that I only bid you good night. Are you trying to pull my leg?"

France stared. "But _angleterre_, I am certain that you said…" he hesitated. Then he put on a fake smile. "Ah, you have me! I was pulling your leg. It was a good joke, _non_?"

"_Non_ – I mean, no, it wasn't." England returned to his book, adding, "Get dressed, frog."

France proceeded to pull on clothing. The gears in his head, kept well-oiled with wine, were turning. Something was odd about England. Since he didn't seem to remember telling France about America's thoughts… he was useless for now. But France could always try America. If England had been telling the truth, then America was the one who started this.

France made up his mind. After he finished getting dressed, he would talk to America.

* * *

_Nok-nok-nok_

Canada looked up at the sound of light knocking on the door. Setting his book down (he had just finished it, and was wiping tears from his eyes); he got up and opened it.

"_Papa_! _Bonjour_! How are you?"

"Ah, _trés bien_," said France happily. He was always happy to see his _petit chou_. "_Et toi_?"

"_Pas mal_. What is it, _papa_?"

"Ah…" France looked past him. "I wanted to speak to _amerique_, but he appears to be sleeping…"

"Oh, yes," said Canada with what seemed to France to be a nervous laugh. "You know Al, sleeps like a log… shall I wake him?"

"Ah, _non, non_," he said quickly. "It is not terribly important…"

"Alright then, I'll just tell him that you came."

"_Ohonhonhon_—"

"…I meant came to see him."

"Ah, _oui_, I know, only teasing. _A tout a l'heure_."

"_Au revoir_," said Canada as he shut the door.

* * *

"Huh?" asked America, leaning against the doorjamb of France and England's bedroom. The latter and Canada were waiting downstairs. "Mattie's a vampire?"

"Ah, well, _angleterre_ said last night that you told him your belief that _Mathieu_ is a vampire… although he doesn't seem to remember saying anything of the sort…"

"Dude, that's crazy. Mattie's not a vampire! I mean, I saw him eating food yesterday and he was out in the sun!"

"So you don't seem to remember either, do you?"

"No, I dunno why Iggy would say that…"

"…I see…" now France was very suspicious.

"Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's go catch up."

France nodded distractedly and followed, deep in thought.

* * *

**Later that day**

"Ah, this pasta is delicious!" exclaimed England at dinner, taking another forkful of his spaghetti. America nodded in agreement, his mouth currently too full to speak properly. France and Canada took dainty bites of their fettuccini.

Canada agreed with England on the pasta's excellence, although his had a flavor in the sauce that he could not identify. But that was not the only thing troubling him. His neck and face appeared to be growing a rash, and his chest seemed to be tightening, making it difficult to breathe. He set down his fork and tried to take deep breaths, only to give way to coughing. France looked up and started.

"_Mon Dieu_, _Mathieu,_ are you alright?" he cried. "Your face and neck are bright red!"

America and England looked up at this point, swallowing their mouthfuls. Their eyes widened in alarm.

"Dude, Mattie, are you okay?"

"Matthew, are you sick?"

"I…" Canada tried to speak, but his tongue felt numb. His speech became slightly slurred. "I… don' feel so go'…"

England studied his face for a moment and noted with growing horror that it was swelling up fast, obscuring Canada's vision. "Matthew, are you allergic to anything?"

Canada was about to shake his head when he remembered what the man had told him: Vampires didn't die from garlic. Instead, it gave them a severe allergic reaction.

"G'rl'c…" he slurred, sounding more and more like Sweden. "…w's th'r g'rl'c 'n th' f'd?"

France tasted his sauce to be sure (he and Canada had ordered the same meal) and nodded. "Yes, the sauce seems to be garlic-based…"

"…" Canada tried to speak. "…'ll'rg'c t' g'rl'c… g'tt'n… h'rd… t'… br'the…" He was only barely sitting up now, his trembling hands clutching his chest. England thought: _Swelling… rashes… difficulty breathing… redness of the skin… oh no… could it be—_

"Anaphylaxis!" cried America (having taken out his smartphone and Googling the symptoms at Mach 1) just as England opened his mouth. "And according to this, it's a really serious reaction!"

France cried out, "_Mathieu_!" For at that moment Canada collapsed onto America, his glasses falling off due to his swollen face. England snatched the spectacles and put them in his pocket, America quickly supported the unconscious Canada, and France flagged down a waiter.

"_Monsieur_, I'm afraid this boy has had a terrible allergic reaction to the sauce. Will you get someone to call 9-1-1?"

Seeing Canada, the waiter nodded and hurried to the employee-only section while France started hyperventilating. England gave him a sack to breathe into, and came around the table to help America support Canada. The waiter hurried back.

"_Monsieurs, _the ambulance is on its way. It should be here within five minutes." He then questioned them, on what was the reaction to, and whether they were going to sue. England held back America, who was yelling that "I _oughta_ sue you guys!" while France stated, no, they wouldn't sue. It was their fault for not checking. The waiter nodded, and the ambulance arrived. Canada was loaded onto a stretcher, and when all three fellow nations attempted to follow him into the back, they were told that only one person at a time may ride. America insisted on staying with Canada ("The hero wouldn't leave a damsel, I mean, his brother, in distress!"), so France and England followed the ambulance in their rental car.

* * *

Eventually, France, England, and America were gathered around Canada's bedside. The swelling had gone down, the redness was fading slowly, and he was sleeping quietly; the doctors had administered the proper treatment, telling them that he would sleep for at least a half hour more, and that he was lucky to be alive, seeing as anaphylaxis was a life-threatening allergic reaction.

After a brief silence, America spoke up: "…I didn't even know that Mattie was allergic to garlic."

"Neither did I," said England mournfully.

France thought, and hesitantly said: "I… believe that his allergy may be a recent development…"

England and America looked up. "Huh?" exclaimed America. "Why d'ya say that, Francis?"

"…I'm starting to seriously think that you two were right in stating that _Mathieu_ is a vampire."

They looked at each other, and back at France again. "C'mon, dude, you mean you were serious about that?" said America.

"_Oui_, I was. I am certain that _angleterre _stated that _Mathieu_ is a vampire, and that _amerique_ said it first. And besides that, he was moving extremely quickly that day we went to the café, when he slammed into the door. He also doesn't stay in _lumière du soleil_ for very long, if at all."

"Preposterous," said England, though he didn't look so sure now.

"But if I said that Mattie's a vampire," protested America, "how come I don't remember it?"

France thought again, but England beat him to it. "Come to think of it, if frog's hunch is correct, then he probably has some way of erasing the memories of his victims. If you thought that he was a vampire, Alfred, then you probably confronted him on your own and he wiped your memory. He… could have gotten to me after that, if Francis is telling the truth."

France and America nodded. It made sense.

"Okay!" exclaimed America. France and England shushed him. "Okay," he whispered. "I have a plan! But you two are going to be my backup, 'k?"

They leaned in together as America whispered his plan to them. Slowly, they grinned and nodded. For once, America's plan was a good one. And it involved _him_ being the decoy, so they were perfectly fine with that.

"Okay! We'll do it tomorrow, when Mattie's feeling better!"

There was a noise from the bed and all three looked down. Canada's eyes were slowly blinking open. He opened them fully, sat up, and yawned. "Al?" he said sleepily. "_Papa_? Arthur? What happened?"

France jumped in quickly. "You had an unfortunate reaction to something in the sauce, _Mathieu_. Thank goodness it wasn't worse."

Canada yawned again. "I'm feeling much better, at any rate. May we go back to the hotel?"

* * *

**Ooh, Mattie's in trouble~**

**Okay, for those of you that read this, I have a question: If they end up finding out that Canada's a vampire, should there be a cure that can be administered? Or should he remain a vampire? Thoughts, please~**


	11. The Confession

Canada slept for the rest of the night at the hotel; but then again, by the time they got back it was half past three in the morning. France, England, and America were discussing a plan in the formers' bedroom. They were going over it for the fourth time to make sure that America had gotten it down pat until he finally exclaimed, "Guys, I got it already! We don't have to go over it again!"

"_Oui_, only making sure…"

"Okay! Let's start!"

England shushed him.

* * *

Canada awoke to America sitting on the couch and watching him. He stretched. "Morning, Al…"

"Morning, Mattie," replied America. "Do you wanna go get some breakfast?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

"So who's gonna be your breakfast? Me? France? Iggy?"

"Sorry, what?" said Canada, pretending to be confused. _Not this again. How does he figure things out so soon?_

"Dude," America said seriously, leaning in, "you're a vampire, aren't you?"

"Al, you know as well as I do that vampires don't exist."

"Except for you maybe because you are one!"

Canada sighed. This was getting nowhere. "Al, come on. Do you really think that I'm a vampire? You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"Of course I do! And I have a great plan to make you admit it and capture you! See—"

"Did you tell anyone that you thought that?"

"Nope! The hero doesn't need backup!"

"Good. That'll make this easier." Canada rose and crossed to where America was sitting. "Will you please make this easy and look into my eyes?"

"Why—" America automatically did what Canada told him to, and soon was frozen as Canada fed from him. He wiped his lips and looked at America's eyes.

"Alfred, when I tell you to, go back to where you were sitting. When you sit down, you'll forget anything that has to do with me being a vampire, including any plan you had, and you'll think that I just got out of bed. Go."

America turned and walked to the couch while Canada went to sit by him. When America sat down, he blinked and turned to Canada.

"Do you wanna go get some breakfast, Mattie?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

"Now!"

At the sound of an unexpected voice behind them, the brothers turned around to see England and France flying out of their hiding places. They tackled Canada to the ground. England held his hands behind him and France whipped out a piece of cloth, tying it over Canada's eyes.

"_Désolé, Mathieu_!" cried France as he finished tying the blindfold, now taking out a piece of rope and handing it to England, who tied a rather complicated-looking knot around Canada's hands like a pair of handcuffs.

"Iggy! France!" exclaimed America in shock. "What're you guys doin' to Mattie!?"

"What you told us to, Alfred!" said England exasperatedly.

"What? I didn't tell you to do this!"

"Never mind that! France, get him onto this chair!" England took out a second piece of rope and tied Canada to the rolling chair. Canada squirmed.

"_Papa_? Arthur? What are you doing?" he cried.

"Sorry, lad, but we saw the whole thing," England announced. "Although I must defer the credit to your brother."

"Guys, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Quiet, Alfred. Now," said England, leaning towards Canada, "how long have you been a vampire?"

Canada hesitated, then deflated, as he saw no point in lying now. "About a week."

"Wait," said America, "you're a vampire, Mattie?"

France shook his head sadly. "_Mon petit chou_… why didn't you tell us?"

Canada went very quiet. "I… I thought that you would all think that I was a monster. That I didn't deserve to live."

A tear leaked from his eye and wormed a path down his cheek. France stood up and hugged him as best as he could while he was tied up. "_Mon petit Mathieu_, _nous n'aurions jamais penser que_."

"How could we ever think that you're a monster, Matthew?"

"I don't know what the hell is going on, but you're not a monster, Mattie!"

Canada started to cry. "Thank you… now can you, um, please untie me? The ropes are starting to dig into my skin…"

England hesitated, then stood up and untied the ropes around his hands with a simple tug on the right part. He did the same for the ones that connected him to the chair, until Canada was standing up and rubbing his wrists. He took off the blindfold and blinked. He smiled shakily at his family.

"Will someone _please_ tell me what THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE!"

England sighed. "Matthew, is there any way to make him remember? He's getting on my nerves."

"Um… oh, yes, there is…" he walked over and placed a finger on America's forehead. "Remember."

America froze, his eyes widening as memories came pouring back. He looked at Canada, opened his mouth, and closed it again. Finally he said:

"Not cool, Mattie! You do NOT interrupt Angry Birds!"

"…that's what you say?"

"Yeah! Interrupting Angry Birds is just not done! It's just not _done_, Mattie!"

"Al…"

"And you didn't answer my question! What do eyes have to do with breathing?"

"Al…" Canada sighed. "Never mind…" He turned to England and France. "Am I right in saying that you two would like to remember as well?"

They looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. Canada went over and touched their foreheads. They both looked shocked, then angry, then incredulous.

"…you're very sneaky, Matthew."

"_Oui_."

"So you have learnt something from the great British empire after all! My spies can't be beat!"

"You're not an empire anymore, _angleterre_."

"…"

While England sulked in the corner, America turned to Canada excitedly. "So what's it like being a vampire? Do you not sparkle in the sun at all, or have I just been missing that?"

"…Al, vampires don't sparkle. Faeries sparkle."

"Edward Cullen is not a fairy!"

"I've read the books," said England, coming out of his corner, "and I'm inclined to disagree with you, Alfred."

"Iggyyyy!"

* * *

**So the results are in - it's split. Three want a cure, three don't. So since it's up to me now, I choose cure. Yay, this fic was extended a few more chapters!**


	12. The Possibility

"But really, Mattie," said America, shifting himself on the couch. Canada had sat down in a cushy armchair. "What _can_ you do?"

Canada felt slightly uncomfortable. He wished he had Mr. Kuma-something to hug; instead, he grabbed a pillow and held it to his chest. "Well," he began, "I'm a lot faster now, for one."

America pointed to him, opened his mouth, closed it, pointed again, opened his mouth. "So – so _that's _how you beat me in the race! And why you slammed into the door at the café!"

"Eh, yes…" Canada winced and put a hand to his nose.

"And obviously," put in England, "you can make people forget things, go to places, and say things."

There was a pause.

"Sorry."

"It's alright, Matthew," said England firmly. "But I was wondering, do you have to… drink from a person in order to tell them to do something?"

Canada started to nod, but stopped. "I don't know. That's the only way I've ever done it."

"Why don't we give it a try?" England suggested. "America, you can do it."

"What? Why me?"

"Because it's what heroes do."

"Okay! Go ahead, Mattie!"

Canada turned to America. Their eyes locked and America froze.

"Eh… Al, get up and tap Arthur on the shoulder."

America didn't move. Canada turned back and shrugged. "I guess it doesn't work like that."

In a few seconds America blinked and shook his head. "Huh? Oh…"

"Back to the topic, _Mathieu_," said France, "you are allergic to garlic, _non_?"

"_Oui, papa_. You all remember that from last night, right?"

"What about sunlight?"

"I can't stay out for more than a few hours."

"Ooh!" America leaned forward. "You can shape-shift, right? 'cuz I remember you turning into a bat! Oh!" he got up and ran to his camera. Then he frowned when he hit playback and nothing happened. "Mattiiiie!"

"Sorry, Al…"

"It's fine, I guess," he grumped, sitting down again.

"Anyway, yes, I can turn into a bat at night and a blackbird in the day."

England smiled. "My gosh, all of this is… insane."

"Insane?" America grinned.

"Alfred—"

"THIS—"

"_Alfred, don't_—"

"IS—"

"ALFRED, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

"SPARTAAA!"

England whacked him on the head.

"So that's about it," Canada concluded.

France stared at him thoughtfully for so long that Canada began to squirm. "_Papa_?"

"Ah, _desolé_, _Mathieu_… I was only wondering if you would prefer to remain a vampire or to become human again."

"Sorry?"

"There may be a cure available, if we could only find one," said France. He looked over at England. "_Oui, angleterre_?"

"Come to think of it, it's possible," said England. "Though with the cases of vampires in my country, the only 'cure' was to kill them. And even if we wanted to, you couldn't be killed in the first place, Matthew."

"Maybe it'd help if you told us _exactly_ how you became a vampire!"

Canada shifted. "Well, I was coming home one night, and a man broke into my house. He drank from me, but he accidentally put far too much saliva into my bloodstream, and that's what happened. I was a full vampire by the next night."

"But in that case," said England, "wouldn't we merely have to give you a blood transfusion?"

"I… I'm not sure. Perhaps I would have to lose a lot of blood first… but I'm not too keen on that."

"Yeah, Mattie, I don't wanna see you get hurt!"

"And as for being cured in the first place… I do want a cure. Sure, shape-shifting and moving quickly is fun, but I miss eating… eating _properly_, as in the food actually satisfies my hunger. I miss being able to eat garlic without having to go the hospital, and I want to stay out in the sun."

"Now that that's settled—"

"Found one!" America held out his smartphone triumphantly. "I Googled 'cure for vampires', and I found one! Here," he said, scanning the text, "it says that you need to use the Shrine to Talos outside Whiterun or Dragonsreach, and that activating the shrine will cure all diseases!"

England scowled. "Give me that!" he snatched the phone from America and checked the website. He face-palmed himself. "Alfred, this is a Skyrim tutorial…"

"Oh."

* * *

**The first thing that comes up when you Google 'cure for vampirism' or something along those lines... is a Skyrim thing. Same for lycanthropy, if anyone was wondering.**


	13. The Decision

England handed America's phone back to him. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I have a book that may come in handy." He went to his suitcase and pulled out a book entitled Magic Made Easy. He brushed some dirt off of the cover and flipped to the index. America yawned and England glared at him. Then he found what he was looking for. He put the book down, having quickly read and memorized the instructions.

"I found a spell that will help cure Matthew," he announced. "I'm going to be unconscious for about ten minutes."

America started to ask why, but England had already closed his eyes and begun the precise mental recitations. Within the next minute his breathing had slowed to a deep, even pattern. America got up and poked him. England didn't move. He poked him harder. England still didn't move. America shrugged, took a Sharpie from his pocket, and started doodling on England's face. France and Canada made no move to stop him.

* * *

England's spirit moved around his basement, rapidly examining the titles of the books. Spells, Curses, Charms, Hexes, and Jinxes… Alchemy and Ӕӕӕ… Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them…

He stopped. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? He murmured something and the book hovered from the shelf, opening to just the page he needed. He read the instructions, frowning slightly. England read them over and over until he was absolutely sure that he had memorized them. And just in time, too – there was a tugging sensation, and he opened his eyes, back in his body.

* * *

America quickly put away the Sharpie as England stirred and woke up. He blinked and looked around. Then he glared at France. "What are you laughing at, frog?"

"Ah, _rien_, _rien_," sniggered France. "Please tell us what you discovered."

"Alright… Matthew," he said, directly addressing Canada, "the book that I found says that being a vampire is a state of existence, not a disease, so there's technically no cure."

Canada sighed in disappointment.

"However," continued England, "there _is_ a way to revert you to a human again."

"D-Don't do that, Iggy," said America through laughter. "That was really depressing for poor Mattie there…" there was another outbreak of giggles.

"Anyway, the reversion occurs when you… alright, you three, what's so funny!?"

By this point France and America were cracking up, and Canada was doing his best to hold down his laughter. "Dude," America managed to say, "sorry, but it's really hard to take you seriously when you look like that…"

"Look like _what_?"

Canada smiled at America. "Al, either I'll tell him, or you will."

"Aw, Mattie… okay, Iggy, check a mirror."

England went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. After much yelling, a complaint from their neighbors, handling the hotel staff, England washing his face (with some marks still left), and him smacking the hell out of America, things finally got settled down.

"As I was _saying_," England continued, "the reversion occurs when you drink from a certain spring that always appears at the roots of a certain tree."

"Oh? It can be that simple?" Canada said happily.

"Well, that's the other thing. For one thing, you'll need to go four days drinking nothing but the water, as well as not eating anything."

"…there's more, isn't there?"

"I'm afraid so. The particular tree that is mentioned in the text is considered to be extinct."

Canada looked down sadly. America stopped rubbing his sore cheeks long enough to go over and hug him. Canada smiled and leaned into the embrace. France smiled at the sweet sight.

England waited until America let go of Canada, and cleared his throat. "There is a _very_ slight possibility that while the tree is considered extinct in this world, it may still exist in another dimension."

America brightened. "I'll get my Barrier Wand! Unless anybody here knows how to control the Chi'karda…"

Everyone stared at him.

America looked around hopefully, and then pouted. "Sure, everyone gets it when Iggy makes Harry Potter references, but not when I make references to _my_ literature…"

"Clearly this means that my writers are better than yours."

"Hey, don't go insulting Stephen King now! His books always keep me up for days!"

"Is that a good thing? Because it sounds like they're stunting your growth."

"Shut up! What about James Dashner?"

"Who is that?"

America gasped and put a hand over his heart. "I… I am hurt. I think a part of me just died."

"Good, that's less of you to deal with." England finally turned back to Canada. "Moving on, Matthew, as far as I know, if the tree (and therefore, the spring, for they can't exist without each other) exists in another dimension, I believe I know which one it is."

"Is it the one with the really tall people or the really short and fat people?" piped up America.

England stared at him. "If this is another reference to this obscure book that you mentioned before—"

"Ugh, forget it, you guys are hopeless. Carry on, Artie."

"…the dimension's entrance lies in Iceland. I don't think that's far from where we are right now…" he gave Canada a questioning look, to which Canada seemed thoughtful.

"Eh, well… I suppose that depends on how you define 'far'. I believe it takes approximately five hours from here to there by plane."

"That's not too long," commented France. "But _angleterre_, what does this have to do with anything?"

"France, you remember the tales of Hekla, right?"

"Ah, so that's what you mean?"

"Would one of you tell us what you're talking about?"

"I think I know what they mean, Al."

"Then for God's sake tell us!" America scowled.

"Countries in Europe say that Iceland's extremely active stratovolcano, Hekla, is the gateway to Hell."

"…so you're trying to send Mattie to Hell."

"Excuse me? I most certainly am not! People have been known to fall into the volcano and vanish. Others say that they die, but their bodies were _never recovered_."

"…because they were burnt to a crisp."

"Even so, some trace would have remained; some kind of matter would have been left over. My point is that it's all we have to start at right now."

"Then as long as we're talking about people disappearing, what about the Bermuda Triangle? I bet that the Chi'karda's really a lot stronger there—" America broke off when he saw England giving him another _look_. "Geez, fine, never mind. But if the volcano thing doesn't work and we don't die, we're going to the Triangle… besides, if we go _there_, I might find Amy."

"Fair enough; and what was that last thing you said?"

"Nothing! Nothing."

* * *

**Congratulations in the next chapter if you are the _first_ person who can name:**

**-(in chapter 9) the children's cartoon that is referenced when America and Canada do the "What do eyes have to do with breathing" exchange**

**-The book series that America keeps referring to in this chapter**

**-The full name of the person America calls 'Amy'**

**(you don't have to name all three to get the mention, just at least one of them) :)**


	14. The Airplane

**So here are the winners:**

**1st to get the "eyes-breathing" exchange: Silent Phantom Gal (correct answer: Invader Zim)**

**1st to get the series that America references multiple times in chapter 13: Silent Phantom Gal (correct answer: The 13th Reality (series))**

**1st to get who 'Amy' is: KuroTenshi00 (correct answer: Amelia Earhart)**

**Congratulations to everyone else who got it, even if they were beat to it ;)**

* * *

After making necessary arrangements with their respective bosses, getting last-minute plane tickets, booking rooms at a hotel, and Canada asking his bear's temporary caretaker if he could possibly watch Mr. Kumajirou for another week or so ("No, you see, it only _sounds_ like he's talking…")… the four nations had finally boarded the next plane for Iceland. America sat next to Canada, while France sat next to England (who didn't seem happy about the arrangements). Luckily for them, the plane only had two seats at a time, so none of them had to sit next to anyone that they didn't know.

Approximately 30 minutes in the air later, a pretty stewardess came around, taking orders for beverages. When she came to Canada and America, she smiled and said, "What would you like today, sirs?"

America winked at her. "Actually, I'd like _you_, if you don't mind, sweets."

She blushed. "Sir, we're not really supposed to fraternize with the customers."

"Aw, that's a shame. All that beauty going to waste!"

Her whole face was red by this time. "Um, sir, a drink…?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll have a Coke. Mattie," he said, twisting to face his brother, "you want anything?"

Canada stared at him.

"…oh yeah. He's not having anything," said America, addressing the stewardess. She nodded and wrote down the order, moving on to the people behind them. America glanced at Canada.

"You want anything when the snacks come around?"

"Al…"

"Okay, yeah, but I saw you eating, so you can eat, right? You just do it for the taste?"

"Yes, that's right…"

"So get something!"

"Really, I'm fine, Al."

"Okay," said America, turning back to face the front.

* * *

"…and you, sir? What would you like?"

France winked at the stewardess. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like _you_, _mademoiselle_."

The stewardess cocked an eyebrow, an amused grin on her face. She pointed to America a few seats away, now playing Angry Birds on his phone. "Sir, you don't happen to be related to that young man, do you?"

France looked surprised. "Ah, _oui_, you could call me his father… though we are not too far apart in age. How did you know?"

"He used the same line on me. But," she added, "You pull it off better."

He smiled in a very self-satisfied way. "Of course I do. So would you take me up on my offer, _belle dame_?"

"Sorry, sir, we're not allowed to fraternize with the customers," she said, giving him the same response she had to America.

"_Mon Dieu_, all that beauty going to waste…"

"The young man over there said the same thing, sir, and would you like a drink or not?"

France sighed and England (who had just ordered green tea) smirked at his failed attempts. "I suppose I'll have some wine…"

"Sorry, no alcoholic beverages."

"…in that case, I'd like some _café au lait_."

She nodded, wrote it down, and moved on. England glared at France.

"What?"

"What do you _mean_, you're America's father? I practically raised him single-handedly!"

"I helped, _angleterre_, so that makes me the loving, handsome father and you the grouchy, strict mother."

"ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A FIGHT!?"

"Tsk, so vulgar…"

* * *

It seemed like forever for the nations, but the plane finally touched down in Iceland. It took everyone about an hour to get their baggage (there was a misunderstanding with the security when America grabbed the wrong bag), another half-hour to reach their hotel by taxi, and finally ten minutes to lug their baggage up to their rooms (the arrangements were the same as before – America and Canada sharing one room, England and France in the other.) America flopped on the bed.

"Wheeeew… that took a long time, huh, Mattie?"

"Yes," said Canada quietly. In truth, he was feeling rather hungry, but he didn't want to bother Al with it. Drinking could always wait.

"Wow," said America, echoing Canada's unsaid sentiments, "I am huuuuuuungry! Let's talk to Iggy and Francey-pants about what to eat, huh?"

"…sure…"

America seemed to realize Canada's predicament. "Ooooh… you hungry, Mattie?"

Canada hesitantly nodded. "But I can wait 'till later."

"Naw, dude, there's no time like the present!" He held still and exposed his neck. Canada approached him. He had never drunk from anyone without making them do it.

"Um, just remember to hold still, okay, Al?"

"Sure!"

Canada quickly drank and closed up the cuts. America checked the mirror and whistled. "That's some impressive healing spit you got there."

"…"


	15. The Tree

"…so…" said America, "what do we do now?"

He, England, France, and Canada stood at the summit of Mt. Hekla, peering down into one of its craters. A thin column of smoke rose from the magma below, but the volcano didn't seem to be getting ready to erupt.

"Well," said England matter-of-factly, "obviously we'll have to jump."

America scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Um, Iggy, last time I checked, heroes didn't jump into smoking volcanoes unless someone's falling in and they can fly."

"I agree with _amerique_," said France equally nervously. "Why don't we wait until tomorrow and—"

"Both of you!" exclaimed England. "Hurry and face the crater!"

They looked at him. America finally said, "Um, excuse me?"

"Do it!" said England urgently. "It's very important!"

They hesitated, then turned and faced the smoking crater.

"Um," said America, still facing forward. "What now?"

"Now I do this." He gave them both a quick shove with each hand and they fell screaming into the volcano. Canada ran to the edge of the volcano.

"Al!"

"It's alright, Matthew," soothed England. "Look."

They both watched as America and France fell… and fell… and suddenly, the air itself seemed to _tear_ open and swallow them whole. Canada stared.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Matthew?" England winked at him and jumped in after America and France. Canada hesitated before following suit.

* * *

The green grassy field lay in perfect serenity. A small family of rabbits ("…aaaaa") nibbled on the verdant ground ("aaaaa_aaaa_") while a murder of crows flew above, cawing in symphonious cacophony. Flowers ("_aaaaaaa_") swayed in the breeze while the bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds buzzed around ("_aaaa_AAAA") them. Everything was lovely, simply beautiful.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

That is, until America and France came falling out of the sky itself, landing hard on the ground. The rabbits scattered. The two barely had time to sit up, groaning, when England and Canada came falling out and landed on top of them. They rolled off America and France and straightened up.

"Thank you very much for breaking our fall, good sirs," said England humorously. The two still on the ground glared at him and stood up.

"Well, at least we're here," said America. "Say, Iggy, how'd you know that the entrance was right there?"

"I didn't. Now let's find that tree. According to the book, it looks like this." He pulled an old scrap of paper from his pocket, as well as a pen, and sketched out a quick drawing. He showed it to the others.

"Wow!"

"That is quite a lovely tree."

"It looks nice!"

England stowed the drawing in his pocket. "Let's get searching!"

* * *

"Y'know, the air smells so nice here," America remarked as they walked. "I wonder why?"

"As far as I've seen," said England, "this dimension, universe, or whatever you want to call it seems to have no people in it."

"So… no pollution?"

"That's right."

"Aw man, don't go makin' me feel guilty!"

"Um, guys?" said Canada quietly. "I think that's the tree."

They looked up and saw what France and Canada were staring at: The beautiful tree, almost identical to England's sketch (but much larger, of course). Some small animals nibbled at the grass around it, while others drank from—

They drank from a stream that wormed its way from the base of the tree.

America whooped and ran towards the tree, only to stop and fall over. He got up and walked to the tree, stopping and moving his hand around like he was feeling something. Then he turned and called to England, "Iggy! There's some kind of barrier here!"

England frowned and walked over. "Really? That's odd…" He cautiously put his hand out, but instead of stopping where America had fallen, it kept going. He glared at America. "You twat, there's nothing there!"

America sniggered and stood up, only to be pushed over again by England. He stood up again and all four approached the tree, scaring off the animals around it. England took out three glass jars and filled each with the liquid, screwing on the lids tightly.

"Matthew," he said to Canada, "the book says that you'll need to drink this water every day, taking one or two mouthfuls (these amounts should do it) for three days. But…"

"But?"

"It also says that soon after taking the third dose, the – and I'm quoting directly here – 'vampire will behave as one that has been deprived of blood for three weeks for an hour before being fully cured'. Do you know what that means?"

Canada stiffened. "Um… well, it means that… I wouldn't be able to control myself. I'd essentially go insane and try to drink from anyone, anywhere."

"In that case," said America, "we should go to my house before you start being cured, Mattie!"

"And why is that?"

"I'll explain when we get there. SUSPENSE!"

"…"


	16. The Danger

**If you would like to meet me in real life, please ****_PM _****me for the details. (no reviews asking for details.)**

* * *

"Wait, _angleterre_," said France suddenly, "how do you plan on us getting back to our world?"

"Yeah, Iggy! How?"

"There should be an opening somewhere around this tree. It should deposit us close to where we entered the dimension."

"So… it's going to chuck us back into the volcano?"

"I hope not."

"…"

Canada quickly found a strangely warped space of air on the other side of the tree. The four of them stepped through the invisible gateway and were deposited onto the rocky ground of Mt. Hekla. America stood up and brushed off his clothes.

"At least we're not burning up."

"That's for sure," muttered Canada, standing up as well. "We should probably head back to the hotel now and make plans to go to your house, Al."

"Yeah! To the Batcave!"

"Your house isn't the Batcave, you git!"

"It is now."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That you're an old lady."

"EXCUSE ME?"

* * *

America, England, France, and Canada finally arrived at America's house in the next two days. England immediately went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and poured a cupful of the otherworldly water. He brought it to Canada. "Here, Matthew, we might as well start today."

Canada hesitated, and then brought the rim to his lips and drank. He swallowed the whole thing and licked his lips. "It's very sweet!"

"Can I have some of that, Mattie?"

England slapped his hand away. "You most certainly may not!"

"Aw."

"Say, America," added England, looking around, "isn't your little alien friend here?"

"Not right now. He's vacationing at Miss Hawaii's place. Tony says that the heat there is good for his skin or something."

"…"

* * *

The next day, England made sure that Canada drank the water that he needed and nothing else. America kept trying for a taste, only to be slapped away by England. France fussed over Canada, making sure that he felt alright.

The third day came.

"Okay!" said America to the others. "And now to reveal why I wanted it to be at my place!" He marched upstairs to the guest bedroom that Canada was staying in and brought out a key. "All of my doors have locks on them, so Mattie can stay in here until he stops being crazy and no one'll be hurt!"

"…why do all of your doors have locks?"

"Remember how I went all paranoid after that one scary movie? I got locks installed on all the doors after that."

"…okay."

America quickly moved Canada into the room. England handed him the last of the water, and America called "See you later, Mattie!" before he shut and locked the door.

"Okay, Iggy, France! Let's go watch TV while we wait!" they all headed back downstairs to a living room where a large, flat-screen TV awaited them. England raised an eyebrow.

"I'm amazed that you can afford these kinds of things, and yet you fail to pay back your debts."

"Shush!"

As America pocketed the key from earlier, France realized something that all of them should have realized before.

"_Amerique_… don't those kind of locks also unlock from the _inside_?"

…

"…oh shit."

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER! *tries to sneak away from gun-bearing readers***

**I'm ending this fic next chapter, so stay tuned~**

**By the way, as to why America calls her 'Miss' Hawaii: Hawaii was a kingdom before being annexed to the United States as the 50th state, so he puts 'miss' in front of her name as a sign of respect.**


	17. The Finale

The three nations quickly devised a plan: England would stay and guard the room, while America and France searched upstairs. It had only been a minute since they left when the door opened.

"Is that you, America?" said England without looking up from his book. "Did you forget your—"

He was cut off as he was thrown and pinned against the wall.

"Matthew!"

"_Look into my eyes_," Canada hissed. England immediately turned his head and shut his eyes. Canada grabbed his chin and turned his head to face him. England kept his eyes shut. With a growl of frustration, Canada used his other hand to forcefully pry his eyes open. With both of these restraints in place, poor England had no choice but to look into Canada's eyes.

"Offer me your blood."

* * *

"Hey, Iggy," called America, walking into the room just as England froze, "I think I forgot my—"

He stopped and processed the scene in front of him surprisingly quickly: England was pulling back his shirt, exposing his neck, while Canada stood in front of him, moving in towards the bare skin. With a cry of "MATTIE, NO!" America sprinted into the room and tackled Canada to the ground, pinning his arms down and covering his eyes.

"France!" he yelled. "I found him! Get down here and bring the rope! Iggy, stop standing there and help hold him down!"

England had been frozen, holding back his shirt at the neck, but at the sound of America's yells he shook himself out of it. Realizing what had happened, he hurried to where America held the struggling Canada and helped pin down his legs.

France came in soon with the rope. He handed it to England (England being the best with knots) and afterwards gave him a strip of cloth for a blindfold. Canada thrashed about in his bonds.

"NO!" he cried. "Let me out… I need to drink! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT, GODAMMIT! _MERDE_! _BAISE_! TAKE THESE OFF!"

England and America had to hold France back from untying his precious _Mathieu_. It broke all their hearts to see Canada insane like this, tied up and screaming. They still had at least forty minutes to go, however, so England and America took ten-minute shifts in watching Canada to make sure that he didn't escape.

England took the last shift. By this time, Canada's throat was raw from the almost non-stop screaming. Now it was mostly him trying to yell in a cracked voice, or simply making motions with his lips, no sound coming out. In the last five minutes, his broken voice died down to whispers of "Let… let me go…" and then silence.

A minute passed with blissful silence. Canada finally spoke in a hoarse whisper: "Arthur? Are you there?"

England looked at him hopefully. "Yes, I'm here, Matthew. Are you better?"

Canada sighed quietly. "Yes. I'm fine now. W… will you please untie me? The ropes are, um, chafing my skin."

As England happily untied Canada, the latter said "I'm so sorry for worrying all of you… and for trying to make you give me your blood…"

"It's alright, lad," said England, letting the ropes around Canada's wrists fall to the ground. "It's not your fault, after all."

Canada rubbed his wrists and untied his blindfold. He blinked, looked at England, smiled, and hugged him. "Thank you, Arthur."

England awkwardly hugged him back. "You should really thank your brother and France as well. In fact, I think they're coming down—"

The door burst open and America and France flew into the room. "Dude!" yelled America. "Mattie, you're not crazy! This calls for a party!" He ran up to Canada and fell to the ground with him in a tackle-hug. Canada hugged him back.

"Al… you're heavy…" he whispered. America climbed off him, beaming. France took a turn sweeping him up in his arms, cuddling Canada like a small child.

"Ah, it's so good that you're back to normal, _mon petit chou_," he cried. "_Mon petit Mathieu_!"

He eventually let go of him. America fetched some water for his throat, and declared that a party was in order. England found an old record player, put on a track that they could all enjoy, and jackets were shed and dancing broke out.

* * *

~Fin~

* * *

**Please forgive me for the crappiness of this ending X(**

**...for some reason at the end where they're dancing, I like to think of them dancing to the record of this song: /watch?v=aHWcN5YxuYc and doing some good old-fashioned American fast swing. America would, of course, grab Canada and start swinging, while France would convince (read: force) England to dance with him. They all know it because America insisted on teaching everyone at every World Meeting while the swing dance was "in" until everyone could do it. Everyone enjoyed doing that dance, even if no one admitted to liking it ^^**

**Anyway... story's done! I am quite satisfied to be able to move on to a different story for Saturdays. Thank you for all your support, minna-sama~!**


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